


The Revolution Of

by setsujoumayu



Category: Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Metaphors Everywhere, can also be interpreted as canon continuation of anime, channeling inner Be-Papas/Ikuhara, derived from a dream, retelling of the movie and anime with the same themes, roses everywhere, spoilers everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 12,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setsujoumayu/pseuds/setsujoumayu
Summary: In a far away land ravaged by disease and death, a king prays to his ancestors for guidance. In response, or perhaps by sheer coincidence, a prince and his sister appear, and grant him the shining, miraculous power of eternity. Years later, princesses all over the world attempt to become the next prince's True Rose Bride. Little do they know, eternity does not exist, and a revolution is about to occur.





	1. Début du monde

Once upon a time, in a land ravaged by disease, strife, and poverty, a dying sonless king turned to his ancestors for a final blessing.

To his surprise, instead of a sign, a dark-skinned young boy clad in a cleric white uniform appeared at the feet of his forebears, seemingly asleep or dead. He had messy lavender hair that matched the palenessof his outfit.

“Boy, who are ye?” the king posited.

The boy awoke. He revealed a young girl—who shared his skin and hair color, albeit her hair color was darker—who had been cowered beneath the boy. Unlike him, she wore clothing that hardly covered most of her skin. At most, one could describe her red top and red shorts as rags.

A cape—the boy’s cape—fluttered behind him as he slowly stood up.

“My name is Dios,” he said, his voice steady and calm like a grown man’s in his sixties yet high and light, giving away the fact that he had not passed puberty. “And this,” he said, gesturing to the girl, “is my sister, Anthy.”

The king narrowed his eyes, for such names were foreign to him. But he had little energy to cast them out, let alone harden his heart against two children. Instead, he knelt so that he could fully look into their eyes.

“Why ye here, Dios? My land is dying… I am dying. If you seek help, I can offer none.”

The children glanced at one another, seemingly sharing wordless secrets. Their size made them look equally frail next to the king. Perhaps they felt vulnerable, even. Then they suddenly turned back, still frowning. This time, the sister spoke.

“We can help you,” she said, training her dark forest-colored eyes on the king’s weathered forehead.

“We have the power of eternity. That which shines. Miracles.”

The king leaned in closer, as if he did not hear her. But he did. He just… didn’t understand. “What ye say, child?”

“Do you desire to rule this land once more with nobility?” Dios asked, holding out a fist.

The king closed his eyes. He wondered briefly, if his ancestors had answered him. That, these children

were a result of their listening to his pleas, as desperate, pathetic, and final as they were. If so, then he, almost a husk of a human who could never bear any fruit, would have no reason to reject anything given to him.

The girl, Anthy, spoke again, breaking through his thoughts. “What is your answer?” she quietly asked.

The king slowly pushed against his knees and stood up. He tried to stand tall, tried to recall how proud and strong he felt and appeared to his people when his father placed the heavy gold crown onto his head. The weight of that crown… it was heavy for a reason. Not because it was metal, but because it represented the sweat, the blood, and the tears of his people who depended on him to maintain and obtain resources for the kingdom.

He grasped Dios’s hand. “Please, help me. With this… power of yours.”

The children smiled. Anthy stepped forward and curtsied, slightly pulling the ends of her shorts in the air as if it were a full red gown and not hastily sewed-together fabric. “Then from this day forward, I am your flower, for I am the Rose Bride. Do as you will in the name of nobility and save what you wish to maintain its shining and miraculous eternity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Successive chapters will be short because this fic is more of a script for a comic version of this story. Hope you enjoyed this.


	2. rêver

The pink-haired girl awoke in a field of white, dew-kissed flowers that penetrated her gossamer pale yellow dress. As she pushed herself up from her knees, her fingers clenched the flowers, and therein was pricked by thorns. Fresh blood sprayed onto the petals, but although a sharp pain immediately struck her thumbs, her breath was taken away by the sight before her.

That is, roses. She was in a field of roses, white and delicate and pure as clouds on a summer’s day.

“This… is…?” she asked the roses.

“Maa,” a high-honeyed soft voice called out. “What a pretty flower…”

The young girl spun around in the direction of the voice, but two warm hands gently clasped around her face. 

The honeyed voice continued on. “I’m almost sad to want to take you with me but… a flower is meant to be looked at, is it not?”

The pink-haired girl shut her eyes and plunged forward, breaking away from the hands. “I’m not a flower!” she angrily spouted, standing with her legs apart from each other and her back straight, as if she was protecting someone behind her.

But what she found in front of her was not a person, but a silhouette hidden by mist. She could make out though, the faintest color of red… a rich red, one you would find coloring a rose.

“Who… who are you?” she asked, tentative and wary, but somehow drawn to this silhouette.

The silhouette giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know not a lick of French. But part of the Utena aesthetic is French, no?


	3. préparation

And the pink-haired girl awoke again in a field of flowers, but this time for real, and this time in a pale pink gown, and because a hand had playfully tapped her head. She groaned, covering her head. “Five more minutes…” she pleaded.

“U-te-NA! Get up! We’re going to be late!” a high-pitched voice that presumably belonged to the hand ordered. 

Utena rubbed her eyes and sat up. A hand swatted at her face and hair again. She opened her eyes to another blonde-haired girl, slightly younger, and another brown-haired girl around her age. For a moment, she struggled to recall their names… only the colors of their hair… pale yellow and chestnut brown…

“Utena, are you okay?” the brown-haired girl asked, pulling on her curled ponytail nervously. She faced the blonde-haired girl and tugged at the braids meticulously weaved around her head like a crown. “You! You’re being too rude to my Utena!”

“It’s not my fault she’s spacing out like a moron as usual,” the blonde-haired girl snapped, dramatically tossing her head in the other direction and smacking the brown-haired girl’s cheeks with her locks. 

“Nanami,” Utena growled, finally remembering who the domineering girl was. “You space out too, especially when you’re around Touga.” She turned to the brown-haired girl and winked. “And don’t talk to Wakaba like that. You don’t want to ever experience her slaps.”

Nanami stood up. “Hmmph! Talk about spacing out… at least I’m not the staring at Touga all day with those ugly big blue eyes of yours!”

“Oh, Nanami-san,” a girl, who wore her auburn-haired tinted with purple short in a bob that curved toward her chin, sighed. “We all know that Utena only has eyes for Miki.”

“That’s right, that’s right!” Wakaba chanted, hooking her arm around Utena’s. “Utena and Miki, lovey-dovey, sitting in the sunlit garden…” She knocked her head against Utena’s forehead. “That reminds me… what were you two doing in there yesterday, hm?”

Flustered, Utena brushed away Wakaba and began walking toward the snow-capped mountains surrounding an enormous white limestone castle.

“Oh, look at her. So obvious,” the bob-haired girl remarked, clapping her hands together, as they all stood up and followed Utena.


	4. règles

Later that evening, all of the girls (except for Nanami) opened the doors to the castle’s largest room: the banquet hall. Spanning what could have been half an acre at the very least, tonight this hall was to host one of the firsts in a series of ceremonies before the Rose Wedding.

Servants had ironed and straightened all of the window curtains to the point that the velvet seemed to sparkle. The bountiful bouquets of roses—green, blue, orange, yellow, red, pink, and white—glistened too, and proliferated the room with a deep, entrancing romantic aroma. All of the food and liquids, clear, light, and sweet.  
The uncountable number of girls entering the room, however, were even more stunning. Most of them were foreign princesses, seeking the position of betrothed to one of the twelve princes and join one of the most well-respected and powerful lines of royalty. Some of them were simply the prettiest of the village or city they were sent from, hoping to elevate their family status and escape poverty.

To the twelve princes, they were all the same, however. They were all Rose Brides. What mattered really was who was going to be the Rose Bride to the Prince and be the one to obtain the power of the shining, miraculous power of eternity… or so the Rose Ceremony dictated.

But then again… after so many years, no one really knew where the Rose Ceremony originated from. No one even knew if this power really existed. All this tradition was for show, a fantastic grown-up’s play.

Moreover, the princes, the twelve princes, ranked from one to twelve, they were hardly grown. Most of them were no older than eighteen. In fact, the youngest was Tsuwabaki, who was barely pushing ten. And to top it off, not all of the princes were… necessarily “male.”

 

As the Rose Brides filtered in, Prince Juri stepped into the room from the back. Tall, gallant, poised, and collected like the tight orange curls resting on broad shoulders, this prince exuded a grave and suitably royal aura. Servants often praised this prince as the one with the highest potential to inheriting the Power along with the appropriate Rose Bride… often forgetting that Juri was also one of the two “female princes.” And even then… really, did it matter? No one matched Juri in her fencing skills. No one could smile so coldly yet glance at those she cared about as warm as a spring sun. 

But then again, other servants would note, she was only ranked fourth. In addition, Prince Touga and Saionji, respectively ranked second and third, were two of the eldest, two of the most popular among the princesses, and two of the most excellent swordsmen the land had ever seen. 

There was also Prince Miki. He was ranked eleven, around the same age as Nanami (also a prince, but unfortunately no one paid attention to her except when she revealed overprotective fangs around Touga.) But the blue-haired boy was Juri’s dueling partner since they were young. As a result, no one could sneeze about his skills either. 

There was also the fact that he was young—not incredibly young like Tsuwabaki—but not as old as Touga and Saionji. In other words… he was still “innocent” and “pure”… but not so that his Bride couldn’t play and tease him. At least, that’s what the young girls said.

Juri surveyed the room. To a servant’s passing eye, perhaps she was just taking in the grandeur of the room. 

But she wasn’t. She was looking for someone in particular… 

“Juri-nee-san,” Miki addressed her from an opening of the same door she came out of. He stepped next to her and followed her line of sight. As she sighed and closed her eyes, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Same trouble as always?”

“No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “No, not really, actually. I haven’t talked to Shiori since…” She turned her head, then turned to face Miki. “How about you? Is Kozue still upset at you?”

This time, Miki sighed. “She’s always upset at me, even if she doesn’t look like it. You can tell by how much she smiles and laughs.”

Juri crossed her arms, conjuring said girl Kozue’s face. Indeed, she could not remember a recent time in which the (usually) spunky and outgoing indigo-haired girl furrowed her eyebrows. “Well then, I’ll ask one of the musicians later on to sing of our woes.”

Miki lightly laughed. “I’m not too bothered by Kozue though.” 

The two turned their attention to the crowd again. His eyes landed on the one pink-haired head in the room. A smile grew on his face.

“Utena, huh?” Juri noted. “A little too childish for you, in my opinion.”

“Oh, she can seem like that but,” he said, blushing, “she’s just really determined. And loyal. And kind.”

“Be careful,” Juri softly chided. “You know whose Bride she’s meant to be.”

Miki’s smile faltered. “I know… but… sometimes I wonder what’s the benefit of following all of these rules...”

Juri snickered. “Same here,” she murmured, finally finding Shiori in the crowd. Although the gold locket hidden in her blouse was inanimate, the sight of Shiori in a royal mahogany dress seemed to spark a life in it. It pulsed, grew warm, and shivered. Absentmindedly, she clutched at her chest, as if it would still the locket’s illusionary tremor.


	5. miel

One of the musicians, a brown-mustachioed burly man, picked up his violin. With the delicate wooden bow, he drew a resonating timbre. Three other musicians followed, echoing the first note, and then five more joined in, and so forth, until a full symphony filled the banquet hall.

The cluster of girls thinned out, some running to join the already burgeoning lines to meet their desired prince, and some to their friends or girls they secretly deemed as lesser competition for some time-passing gossip. For Utena and Wakaba, they were more preoccupied with sampling the foods as waiters dramatically lifted the metal covers one after the other.

Wakaba dipped her finger into a slimy warm brown goo. She held it up close to her eye, then sniffed it.

“It’s gravy,” Utena chirped, ladling piping hot stew into her bowl and snatching up a juicy chicken thigh. 

“Is it good?” Wakaba asked, hesitant to try it herself.

“Yeah, totally!” Utena replied enthusiastically. She grabbed Wakaba’s finger and stuck it into Wakaba’s mouth. Wakaba flushed and jumped away. 

“UTENA!” she growled, but softening the muscles of her eyebrows as Utena laughed at Wakaba’s reaction. “Mouuuuu! Utena, are you ever going to grow up?”

Utena pulled out a feathery pink fan and covered her face, as she had been taught in etiquette class. “I know not what you speak of. I am one of the most grown-up and fabulous persons in this room.”

Wakaba scoffed, throwing her arm around Utena’s neck. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… we ALL know the most grown up person here is Touga, right?” She scanned the room and found him in one of the corners of the room, almost hidden by the rainbow of fluffy and balloony princessy dresses. “Look, there he is!” 

Utena, uninterested, followed the direction of Wakaba’s finger. “Is he REALLY grown up?”

“What do you mean by that? Isn’t he like one of the eldest?”

“Well yeah, but… that doesn’t mean he’s grown up…”

Wakaba moved her eyebrows up and down. “Oh, right, right. You and Miki belong to each other.”

“Wakaba! Shhh!”

Wakaba giggled, maliciously delighted at Utena’s reddening face. “It’s okay, Utena. I think you two are perfect for each other too. Have you confessed?”

Utena rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep thinking we’re secretly in love with each other?” She folded her arms, trying to think of the chicken she just ate as opposed to Miki’s beaming face. “I mean, yeah, Miki’s cool. He’s good at fencing… piano…” The tune he played all the time, The Sunlit Garden, began playing in her mind. 

“...Okay… really good at piano.”

Somewhere, the other older prince, Saionji laughed. Wakaba forgot about Utena and rescanned the room for the green-haired prince. Then, just as abruptly, she turned back to Utena. “Saaaaaay, Utena…”

“What is it this time?”

“When you and Miki get married, are you going to do THAT with him?”

“That…?”

“You know… that!”

Utena glared at Wakaba, completely clueless as to what “that” was. “You’re being really vague, Wakaba.”

“Oh my god, you’re one of the most possible brides-to-be and you don’t even know what ‘that’ is? It’s the thing you do with the prince if you become The Rose Bride!”

“Yeah… I still don’t know what you mean…” Utena murmured, her attention finally returning to the delicacies on the table. Her eye saw the glistening fried skin of another avian. She licked her lips and began to head toward the plates. From behind, Wakaba continued to exasperatedly question what in the world Utena was doing in this kingdom if she didn’t know these things… 

As she bit into another fresh drumstick, she wordlessly answered Wakaba. Did it really matter that she didn’t know anything about this kingdom? All that really mattered was her relationship with Miki, right? I mean, they had been friends for… for… for how long, again?

Huh? Utena lowered the drumstick from her mouth. Why couldn’t she remember how long she had been with Miki? She snuck a quick glance at Wakaba, who was still rambling on, but also trying to watch Saionji at the same time. She felt a little uncomfortable now… well, because it seemed like whatever Wakaba was saying did matter.

She shook her head. No, no, she mustn’t think this way. Her head wasn’t meant for overthinking anyway!

Then suddenly, she realized the scent of roses disappeared. And the orchestra. Even though the whole room was full of it just a few seconds ago. No, actually… maybe the rose scent and the music didn’t disappear. Maybe she was simply smelling and hearing something else? Utena breathed in deeply. Yes, she was smelling and hearing something else indeed. Something so overpowering… yet empty at the same time. 

The sound… it was a void. No, a peaceful serenity… almost like the longest and softest sigh she had ever heard of in her life. And the scent… it smelled like… like… dirt. Dark dark dark dirt. Freshly watered dirt. Soil, would be a better word. Perhaps soil that had recently been soaked by the rain. Why was there such a fresh, nature-like smell?

She put down the drumstick, touched Wakaba’s shoulder and told her she’d be back, then began weaving around the princesses, following the scent. It grew stronger and stronger as she headed toward the back of the room--where Juri and Miki had come from.

And then… she saw it. The source of the smell. How she knew… she just did. As if it was a fact that she had known all along.

What was the source of the smell? It was this… figure. It was wearing a dress, like everyone else. But it was a vibrant shade of red… and the figure’s hair (all she could see) was a silky dark purple. Although there was a variety of colors in the room, for some reason, these two colors… like the dirt scent… overpowered… everything…

She whispered, “Who… are you?”

The figure turned. 

But at the same time, the crowd and the rose scent and the symphonic music overwhelmed Utena’s surroundings, closing her in like prison walls. She yelped and choked, as if drowning. Stuffy. The room was suddenly unbearably stuffy, noisy…

I have to get out, Utena resolved, dodging eager and unaware steps, pushing when people roughed her side as they rushed to the princes or the food or the musicians. Gradually, the dirt scent and the serene soundless sound returned… 

She blinked and gasped for air as she broke through the exit like one breaks through the surface of a pond.


	6. jardin

The outside turned out to be a garden. Of course--a scent of fresh dirt would obviously come from a garden. 

This garden was brimming with plants. There were roses, needless to say, but trees with gigantic leaves, and tickling grass everywhere. And the sky was a clear blue, save for wisps of clouds here and there. It was daytime. (Although Utena couldn’t remember if it was supposed to be daytime…)

And then...

How beautiful. 

Was the first thought.

Who is she?

Was the second thought.

And the third… was…

“Hime… miya?”

Wait… what? What was that? Was that a name?

The figure, clearly of a young woman, had turned around, revealing her face. Delicate small face, elegant nose, wide sparkling eyes of ever-deep evergreen. Green stars, they seemed like, distant, heavenly, and cosmic. 

“Hello,” the woman spoke. The voice--sweet, calm, masterful, powerful--was so familiar. But Utena was certain she had never seen her before.

“Who… are you?”

The corners of the woman’s small rosy lips upturned. Utena heard her feet gently brushing aside the tall grass as she approached Utena. From somewhere, the woman had procured a white rose.

“You spoke my name,” she murmured, raising the rose to Utena’s nose. 

“I-I did?”

She lowered her eyelashes. But this didn’t break Utena’s cemented gaze at her starry eyes. “Take a whiff, dear Utena.”  
She knows my name too, Utena noticed, doing as Himemiya suggested. The scent, euphorically lucid, seemed to sweep over her entire body, like a wave. Washing away everything, like polishing glass, but at the same time removing nothing. What was this....?

“It smells wonderful…” Utena complimented, completely at ease.

Himemiya smiled wider and fixed it on Utena’s lapel--lapel? Utena looked down at Himemiya’s slender fingers, and realized she was wearing a… rather masculine uniform. It looked like the outfits the princes wore. A black jacket with shoulder epaulettes and a golden chain that crossed her chest and hooked onto her right shoulder. 

“Himemiya…” Utena murmured again. How pretty a name. Princess. She reluctantly moved her eyes away from Himemiya’s hands and tried to study the woman’s face. Certainly she looked like a princess. 

“Yes?” she answered.

Who is she? Why does her name slide off my tongue so easily, like water?

“Who… are you?”

She showed her teeth--as white as the rose on Utena’s chest--and skipped away. Her red voluminous skirt twirled and flapped gracefully, like rose petals. Utena’s heart danced in beat with Himemiya’s dress. She’s leaving, she thought. She’s leaving me, she’s running--

“Wait! Himemiya!”

“I… am the Rose Bride,” she sang ever so sweetly, twirling and swirling. 

All of the flower petals in the garden began to blow around her.

“Himemiya, wait!”

“I belong… to the prince…”

“Himemiya, what are you saying?!”

Utena felt a blast of energy surging through her toes up to the base of her hip.

Leap. Now. For her.

“HIMEMIYA!”


	7. du paradis

\--pain, sharp, piercing pain--

“...Is she okay?”

“What was she thinking, jumping from such a height?”

“Is she ill?”

“Who is she?”

“I think she was called Tenjou or something…”

“How fitting of a name…”

“How CRAZY of a girl!”

“Disgraceful…”

She gasped, forcing her eyes open. Then immediately regretted it. Her leg was broken. Was… was that a bone? She instinctively reached for it and screamed. She fell back onto her back. Her eyesight blurred. She felt tears gathering at her eyes.

Somewhere, she heard Miki cry out her name, his footsteps. She felt his arms, thinner than Touga’s, but still strong, still belonging to a prince, propping her up.

“Utena! Oh god--”

Following Miki’s voice was Juri’s. “What happened?”

One of the other princesses who spoke earlier. “She jumped!”

“Why?” Miki snapped. “Did someone push her?”

“I-I think so!”

Utena felt Miki’s grip around her shoulders tighten. 

“WHO DID THIS?” he roared. Utena heard him gnash his teeth. Something wet splashed her face.

“Miki, calm down…” Juri spoke, her voice growing farther and farther away. “First we need to…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How fitting of a name" -- well, it seems like Utena's jumped from somewhere HIGH, right? And her last name is TENJOU, right? 天上 where both characters refer to high places... "heavens" and "up."
> 
> I'm doing my best with the metaphors and meaningful symbols! :)


	8. roses rogues

What seemed like kisses on her forehead, or rather her eyelashes, woke Utena from a painless slumber. As her eyes adjusted to the tender sunlight peeking in from the single large window at the far end of the room, she realized she was in one of the castle’s infirmary rooms.

How long had she been sleeping…? She tried moving her leg. What seemed like a million swords tore through her toes to her knee. She winced, biting her tongue so she wouldn’t scream. 

Not that long, but long enough so only moving the leg would trigger pain.

Suddenly, she heard a door slam. A prideful voice spoke out.

“Feeling better?”

Utena weakly chuckled. “Not really, Juri-san.”

Orange curls filled the right side of her vision. Juri was wearing a red version of her princely outfit today. In her arms was a narrow cylinder vase and a bouquet of similarly red roses as well. With a considerate precision Utena had seen Juri demonstrated when striking with a rapier, she placed the rose stems one by one into the vase.

At the last rose, Juri eyed Utena’s profile. “You seem surprised.”

“Oh, it’s not that, I just…”

“You thought Miki would be the one who would be visiting you, right?” She pulled up a chair beside her bed and sat down, amused and confident in her deduction.

“Where is Miki, by the way?”

“He’s with Kozue. Preparations for the duels.”

Utena sighed, scowling. “You know, what’s the point of those if the king and queen are the ones deciding who gets to marry the princes?”

“It’s tradition,” Juri automatically said. 

Utena rolled her eyes. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Don’t you have to prepare as well?”

Juri’s eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. “I have no interest in the Rose Ceremony,” she stated matter-of-factly, standing up. Her back was all Utena could see as she marched away. “Get better soon.”

“Juri-san.”

She stopped, one hand on the handle of the door, the other hidden behind her curls and figure. “What is it?”

“Thank you for the roses.”

She pulled the handle, just as she pulled on the locket within her shirt. “They’re from Miki. Thank him later.”

And the door closed.

Utena turned to the roses again. 

Red roses… 

She glanced at her chest. A vague memory of a white rose on her chest floated in her memory.


	9. escalier de l'éternité

A long way down. Or a long way up, depending on where you stood in the endless steps of the white spiraling staircase. Worse of all, while climbing this staircase, there would be nothing to look at. From the way up or the way down, one would be surrounded by uniform stone walls with nary a nick or a stain.

How it remains so uniform, no one knows. Perhaps magic was at work here.

Anyway, only at the very top, where anyone, if anyone could even get here, would notice anything different. First of all, there would be a pair of eternally locked white doors. Right in front of the left door would be rows and rows of pictures. 

Pictures of princes and princesses.

It would go like this:

The Princess - The Prince

On and on and on.

Every single pair.

A Princess on the left, and a Prince on the right.

And even though Time still moves forward, is still Present, these walls at the very top, will always have space of every pair that will ever exist. Forever.

That’s how eternity works, right?

 

Well, on the topic of who has ever been here…

It was a man with long, long legs in a pure white uniform complete with shoulder pads, chains, buttons, a tailcoat, and one sword hanging on his hip. 

How he got here? No one knows. Could one really reach the end of a staircase made of eternals steps?

But he was here. And in this Present Time, he arrived at the very top, not breathing hard, just living, and brushed his hand against the wall next to the doors.

Here’s a pair, he notes. And here. And here. All the spaces planned out. How safely perfect… forever.


	10. chose brillant

Miki visited Utena in the dead of the night. If he still wasn’t wearing his blue princely uniform, Utena would have thought a burglar snuck into the infirmary. 

Upon spotting the pink-haired head, he leapt with his arms open and embraced her as if the whole world was going to take her away. Although she wouldn’t admit it, she felt safe and cozy in his arms.

A couple minutes had passed before Miki could let go and begin a conversation with Utena.

“How was the preparations, Miki?” Utena asked.

He sighed. “A waste of my time. I thought it wouldn’t take so long but… how many minutes and hours passed by!”

Utena giggled. “So how long was it, exactly? You were keeping track right? Like you always do…”

But Miki didn’t respond. Instead, he was staring intently at the location where Utena had broken her leg.

“Say, Utena… do you remember how you broke your leg? Someone pushed you, right?”

Utena furrowed her eyebrows. “Well… I don’t know about that…”

He jumped out of his seat, furious. “Are you saying you jumped on your own?! Why would you do that?”

“I-I didn’t say that either! Calm down!”

“I can’t!” he hissed, clenching his fists. “I… I can’t bear to see you hurt!”

“Miki…” She bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to put myself in danger, yanno?”

Miki’s lip quivered. Then he released his fists, and collapsed back into the chair. 

Part of Utena felt guilty. Another part of her wanted to punch Miki. She decided that she should give into the guilt. “Miki... look…”

“Utena, would you marry me?”

She bit her tongue. She winced. She looked at her hands. They were sweating.

Miki got up from his chair, knelt, and seized her hands. “Utena, would you marry me?” he repeated.

“M-Miki… I know we’ve been friends for a while… like... “ Actually, Utena still had no idea how long she knew Miki, but… 

“Yes or no?” he insisted.

“W-What about Kozue-chan?”

“What about her?”

“W-Well… if I’m not mistaken, she’s gonna be your Bride, right? I mean…”

“I don’t want that! I want you!” He looked into her eyes. 

Utena recalled Wakaba’s nagging from the ball earlier. Then, it clicked. She tossed Miki’s hands aside.

Miki frowned, but from the corner of her eye, she could see that he was trying to force a smile. To be… “strong.” But the muscles in his face, they were dead set on pulling those lips down. He couldn’t control the emotions erupting inside, could he? (Like a little toddler, when they are denied candy, almost?) 

Did he even know what emotions were erupting inside?

Did Utena know?

She turned her head away, unable to bear the sight of Miki’s scrunching face. “Miki, why… why would you want me? What good am I? I’m… like a boy, aren’t I? I wouldn’t make a good princess.”

“But…” Miki blubbered. “If… if you marry me, you’ll become one. I’d protect you, and you’d be with me all the time, and… that’s all that really matters, right? That’s what a princess would be, right? It doesn’t matter really how you are, right?” He gulped. “I’m… I’m sick of it.”

“...Of?”

“This ceremony. Someone who knows nothing about us, deciding who we’re going to marry, who’ll get the “power of miracles” or whatever… What is the point of this charade? Who are we trying to impress? Is there even a power? What does all of this… accomplish?” The tears began to flood and he began to choke as he spoke. “I… I think we should be free… to love whoever we love. Don’t… you think so?”

For some reason, Utena thought of Juri. “...I… do.”

“Then let’s get married. Regardless of whatever other people say. I mean…” He grabbed her hands again. “If… you’re okay with me.”

Utena thought of Juri, clenching her locket--she knew she had a locket, she just didn’t know why she had one or who was in the locket. But Miki’s earnest blue eyes had won her over. “Of course I’m okay with you,” she said, smiling motherly, and returning a squeeze of his hands herself.


	11. la graine

“What?” Juri said, exasperated. “What did you say?”

“I think this ceremony system is outdated,” Saionji repeated.

Juri, Touga, Saionji, and Nanami were meeting discreetly in one of the castle’s many tearooms. As usual, it was (perpetually?) sunny outside. 

Juri uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again. “Did you seriously just say that?” Juri asked.

“What? Do you think I don’t have opinions?”

No, Juri thought.

“No,” Nanami blurted.

Touga simply sipped his tea, calmly, observing. 

“Oh, wow, thanks. I know who has my back now,” Saionji growled.

“You’re welcome,” Touga said jovially. Saionji shot him a deadly glare. But he shrugged it off, being Touga. “Anyway, do we all agree?”

“Well, even if we agree, what are we going to do about it?” Juri muttered. “Are we going to challenge the king to a duel?”

“I wouldn’t even challenge the queen,” Nanami noted. “Have you seen the hag?”

“Hey, don’t talk about Great-Grandma that way,” Saionji said. “She’s not that bad… compared to the geezer.”

Juri snorted. “I volunteer Saionji as tribute.”

“Now, now, let’s not fight amongst each other,” Touga ordered. He took another sip of his tea. “I think the solution is simple. We marry whoever we like.”

This time, Nanami snorted. “Not ALL of us want to get married. Some of us just want to enjoy life.”

“Oh really?” Saionji pointedly asked Nanami. “Seems like if you could, you’d marry Touga.”

“Excuse me? Don’t you assume things about me, broccoli-head! I can do things without him, especially when those insects swarm around him!”

“So anyway,” Juri sternly interrupted, “why the sudden change of heart?”

“It’s just us, to be honest,” Saionji said. “The other princes don’t care at all. At least, that’s what I’m assuming. They didn’t show up to this meeting, after all.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“You know Tenjou?” Touga posited.

“Of course I do. We would only not know about her if Miki wasn’t born,” Juri snarkily commented. She adored Miki, but Utena’s energy really got to her…

“Well, I heard that she and Miki are going to tie the knot.”

“What? But Kozue--”

“They’re both determined to marry each other, no matter what.”

“And break tradition.”

“That’s right.”

Juri bent her head, biting a nail. How did she feel about this? Elated? She closed her eyes. Without even trying, she saw Shiori, holding her locket, opening it, and bombarding Juri with questions. And confused and scared eyes. Very, very scared eyes. Juri… didn’t want to see her scared. But…

...really, what would she lose by trying to be different…?

On the outside though, she shook her head and stood up. “I’m hungry. I’m going to get something to eat.”

“Wait, Juri, whether you’re onboard with us or not, don’t you tell this to anyone else!” Saionji demanded, also jumping from his chair.

Touga smirked. “Saionji, don’t worry. Juri’s on our side.”

Irritatedly, Saionji asked, “And how do you know?”

The red-haired prince raked one hand through his knotless locks, winking at Saionji. “I know because I’m the oldest.”

“....You’re only older than me by a little!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saionji and Touga aren't really my favorite but... writing them was actually quite pleasant. That bromance/rivalry though, amirite??


	12. laisse moi entrer

A long way down. Or a long way up, depending on where you stood in the endless steps of the white spiraling staircase. Worse of all, while climbing this staircase, there would be nothing to look at. From the way up or the way down, one would be surrounded by uniform stone walls with nary a nick or a stain.

Except at the very top, where anyone, if anyone could even get here, would notice anything different. 

Pictures of princes and princesses. The Princess, The Prince.

 

Here, was a man with long, long legs in a pure white uniform complete with shoulder pads, chains, buttons, a tailcoat, and one sword hanging on his hip. He was smirking, comfortable in this space of eternity.

How he got here? No one knows. But for sure, he couldn’t have climbed all of these stairs. He wasn’t breathing hard, he was just living.

He brushed his hand against the wall next to the doors. Here’s a pair, he notes. And here. And here. All the spaces planned out. How safely perfect… forever--

\--knock knock.

He spun around. Was that… the doors? How could that be? Who… who could be outside? Was there anything on the outside?

Hesitantly, he approached the doors. “Who is it?” he asked. 

A honeyed-giggle.

“Answer me,” he yelled, but moving no closer to the doors, as if the door would open any moment, and reveal monstrous jaws.

Another honeyed-giggle. 

“Damn you!” he cried again, still moving no closer to the doors. In fact, he was beginning to walk backwards, down the stairs of eternity. “You’re… you’re a witch, aren’t you?”

Knock knock. Then, the honeyed-giggle, and then a honeyed-voice. “Be careful. I hear falling down hurts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I wouldn't pull an Ikuhara and not reuse "footage"?
> 
> ahaha.wav
> 
> (I hope it wasn't too boring to reread. I changed up the sentences, you know!)


	13. raison

“You said Juri wouldn’t tell anyone!” Saionji shouted, as he struggled to keep up with Touga and Nanami. 

“Well, some people, like Ruka, have brains and can figure out things!” Nanami shouted back, starting to struggle herself. And then she stopped, her legs slowing down enough so that Saionji was gradually catching up. “Okay… wait… pause… five… second… timeout…”

Meanwhile, Touga was already long gone.

 

Apparently, Ruka, one of the twelve princes, had heard of the little discontent some of the princes were having with the whole Rose Ceremony. While he understood their point of view… he didn’t exactly see the benefits of doing whatever they wanted. 

Especially if Juri, as he saw it, was making one of the princesses uncomfortable. 

 

“Leave your nose out of this, Ruka!” Juri snarled.

They were in the ballroom where Utena had jumped (or was pushed) and broke her leg. Except the only dance that was most certainly about to occur was going to be between Juri and Ruka’s blade. Both of the princes had squared their posture and locked gazes.

There were plenty of spectators--most of the princesses and servants. There was, of course, Shiori--disheveled, trembling, but clutching Juri’s locket with incredible force. 

Juri looked over at Shiori, heart pounding, and the “sorrys” filling up her lungs. But Shiori kept her head down, still trembling, as if cold.

And then, Ruka pulled out his sword. Juri too. But she was hesitant, inside. A little lukewarm. Or was she melting in embarrassment and shame and fury? Regardless, all that mattered was the outside, right? On the outside, she was breathing ice.

“You’re pathetic, Juri. Selfish, even. And you know… you won’t be able to beat me.” He bent his knees and readied his blade.

And then he lunged, like a bullet. Juri gasped and thrust her sword downward, narrowly preventing his blade from piercing her heart. She tumbled forward as if she was a marionette, then collided into the floor. 

She heard Ruka’s blade’s slicing the air as he charged at her again. She gritted her teeth, spun around, and charged too. Their unequal impact brought Juri too low to the ground. Ruka violently shoved her shoulder. Into the floor she went.  
“You want to know why you can’t beat me? Because you still haven’t let go of that ridiculous locket--”

“DON’T CALL IT RIDICULOUS!” Juri shrieked, lunging at Ruka and nicking his cheekbone. “YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!”

“I know EVERYTHING about you! You think you’re being cool, but you’re not! You’re really like a child, holding onto something that you can’t have, that you KNOW you can’t have, but you’re not going to let go anyway!”

“SO WHAT?” She thrust again, and he parried. This time, he brutally locked his blade against hers.

“So you’ll end up HURTING everyone around you, that’s what!”

She gritted her teeth, feeling tears in her eyes. She’s not going to win, is she? She’s not going to win…

“Juri… there’s a reason why this system has been around for so long… haven’t you realized that? Haven’t you ever thought about it? It’s because it works!”

No, even if she couldn’t win--! She rammed her forehead into his, sending him onto his back. She aimed the tip of her blade at his throat.

“Where... does it work…?” she spat, breathless. She inched the blade closer, so that it could pierce a hole if she so much as moved her neck. “For who does it work? Because it sure as hell doesn’t work for me!”

A door opened. “That’s enough!” Touga’s voice rang throughout the room. He rushed to Juri’s side and dragged her away. “Let’s go, Juri.”

“You’re a fool, Juri. You need to grow up…!” Ruka muttered.

Juri tossed her head to face him one last time. “What do you know about growing up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Juri OOC? Or is this simply a Juri that is a little more progressed than she was in the anime...? Or does it even matter, considering that this is an AU?
> 
> And don't worry... Utena will be coming back!


	14. frappe

“They’re saying it’s our fault,” Miki said quietly.

Utena pressed a random piano key. “Our fault…?”

“The other day, Juri-nee-san and Ruka-nii-san dueled. Because you know, we wanted to marry. You know, instead of me with Kozue and you with… well, with whomever they’d make you marry.”

She chuckled and pressed another piano key. “You think they’d put me with someone?”

“Yeah, they would. But you know, we’re doing the right thing, breaking tradition. In the future, other people will follow along… and so forth and so forth.” 

“You think it’s that easy?”

“Well… all they need is a role model.” Miki squeezed Utena’s hand. 

“Breaking tradition…” Utena mumbled, pressing another piano key. She sighed. “Are we really… breaking tradition…?”

“Yeah, we are!” Miki insisted.

But Utena had removed his hand, and walked away from him. She stood at the only large window in the room. Sunlight, as usual, except it was sunset now.

“By the way,” Utena started, “I didn’t ever thank you for those roses.”

Miki blushed. “You liked them?”

“Of course I did! That’s how I’m able to stand up now!” She looked down at the stilt on her leg and the crutch leaning against the piano. “Well, mostly stand up, haha.”

The familiar melody of The Sunlit Garden began to rebound the room. 

Utena returned her gaze to the window. It was bad to stare at the sun, but surely with the setting of the sun, the sunlight wouldn’t be so bad, right? She put her hand on the window. Surprisingly, it was cool.

“Yeah, it’s all thanks to you,” Utena said.

“Hm?” Miki was still playing.

“That I’m able to stand… to live…”

He stopped. He approached her and hugged her from behind.

“Are you scared, Utena?”

Scared? Am I scared? 

Utena removed her hand from the cool glass. “I don’t know… I just feel unsure.”

“It’s okay, Utena. I’ll protect you. And it’ll work out in the end. I promise. We just gotta lay low for now. And that’s easy to do--this castle’s so big!”

He sat back down and began playing the piano again, perfectly, without missing a step.

Utena looked at the window one more time. 

\--”In the end”--

She blinked. She turned to the piano. Miki was still playing--she could see his arms moving up and down like waves, but, but… there was no sound. Rather, there was a… soundless sound.

\--”all girls are like the Rose Bride”--

 

Maybe Miki was calling for her--Utena did just run out of the piano room. But there was still the soundless sound. A void, perhaps. No--it wasn’t a void, it was--oh, and the scent. Fresh dirt again. But she was in the piano room… was the piano room always next to a garden?

...and now she was in a long hallway, no windows, just stone concrete walls. How long was this hallway? Actually, how did she get here?

She stopped, breathless. All she could hear was herself panting. Why was she rushing? Where did she need to go? She bent over, putting her hands on her knees. No matter, she’d take a quick break, right here and now…

...Huh? 

Utena stood straight and took a step forward. She… she could walk fine? 

\--Knock knock--

An echoing sound of knocking broke the soundless sound and her footsteps. From where? She turned around and saw in the far distance, the doors to the piano room. Not from there… She turned back around--

\--Knock knock--

\--and saw a white staircase, surrounded by uniform stone walls with nary a nick or a stain.

Compelled by the brightness of the staircase, she began to walk towards it. Walking… walking… walking… and finally, her foot reached the first step. She took another and another… until the steps began to turn. She poked her head around the curving wall. Just more stairs.

Nevertheless, she kept walking. And walking. And walking.

What an endless number of stairs. Maybe she should head back down before she gets too far. 

Except… the knocking continued, growing louder and louder as she walked faster and faster and faster and faster until she was running!

Knock. Knock.

What an endless number of stairs.

And then… she reached the top. And she knew she reached the top because there were no more stairs, just two white doors.

Knock, knock.

She placed one hand on the brass handles of the white doors. She tried pulling it. The doors didn’t budge.

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?” Utena asked.

Knock, knock.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

The knocking stopped. 

Utena frowned and tried pulling again. The doors remained insurmountable. Maybe with both hands? With one foot on the door as well? She gripped the handles with both hands and tugged. Nothing.

She exhaled, frustratedly. Then she realized that the fresh dirt scent was definitely coming from behind the white doors. There must be a garden outside. But… she can’t get in there!

She turned her back to the doors, ready to give up, since she couldn’t think of any way to open the doors, nor was there ever really a reason to try and open the doors. But then, pictures on the walls next to the left door caught her eye. She knelt next to the wall to examine them.

They were rows of intricate inked figures--much like the ones you could see in stained glass panes of a chapel--of two people, always facing each other. As her eyes moved down the wall, she noticed that they were depictions of some kind of royalty--a Princess on the Left, and a Prince on the Right.

And then she saw one pair that froze her heart--one depicting a slumbering, slender blue-haired boy facing an empty space to his left. She touched the empty space. Was this where she was meant to be? It was, right? She looked at the other pictures. 

Suddenly, she heard the sound of grating metal doors. She jerked up, backing up against the door, as heavy, purposeful footsteps approached the top. She didn’t recall seeing any doors besides the white ones behind her back on the way up…

The tip of someone’s white dress shoes--white as the rose she struggled to recall but lingered in her mind like a shell on a sandy beach. And then, the owner of these white dress shoes--a tall, tall man wearing a pure white uniform complete with shoulder pads, chains, buttons, a tailcoat, and one sword hanging on his hip. 

A Prince, no doubt about it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice deep, belying an age that could be described as eternity--at least, to someone as young as Utena.

“I-I just got a little curious--”

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

He narrowed his eyes. “Go back down, where you belong.”

Where I… belong?

“Wait… before I do… can you tell me what is this? I didn’t know this castle could even go this high. I mean… I walked a ton of steps to get here.”

Suddenly, the man brandished the sword at his hip. “I see… you’re the source of the knocking.”

Utena widened her eyes. “Wait, what? No, I--”

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m one of the princesses--”

He charged.


	15. l'ombre qui se transforme

“Neh, Himemiya…”

“What is it, Utena-sama?”

“Where do you think we’ll be in ten years?”

“In ten years... I’m not sure. I’ll be happy as long as I get to tend my flowers.”

“Maybe you can be a florist then. I can totally see you doing that!”

“What about you, Utena-sama? Is there something particular you want to do?”

“Mm… what can a girl like me do?”

“Lots of things, Utena-sama. Anything you put your mind to.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Probably.”

“Neh, Himemiya.”

“What is it, Utena-sama?”

“I’ve asked you before but… do you really like being the Rose Bride? Please tell me what you honestly think and not what I want to hear.”

“...I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Himemiya… do you think you’ll ever stop being the Rose Bride?”

“...What does it mean to be a Rose Bride? Is it a princess? Those who duel can see me as someone who needs to be saved. Is it a prize? They say the power of miracles… that which shines… eternity… all of it, comes from me. But in that case… perhaps…”

“Uh, Himemiya… I’m kind of lost...”

“Well, it is late, Utena-sama.”

“Oh, you’re right. The sun’s gone.”

“We can hide in the safety and comfort of the darkness now.”

“Oh, that’s a strange way to put it. Usually people are afraid of it. I mean, when you think of the darkness, you think of evil stuff and monsters right? And then a prince on a white horse comes by…”

“...Good night, Utena-sama.”

“...Good night, Himemiya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always found Anthy's statement about girls and Rose Brides poignant.


	16. engagez-vous à moi

The Rose Ceremony has many rules, but the most important one is the line. All of the princes line up on the right, and the pre-selected brides to the princes on the princes’ left. This is how it has always been done. Who established it, and why, no one knows.

Some speculate it is for show. Or perhaps, a play.. After all, everything about this little cozy kingdom (perhaps world is a better word?) of princes and princesses is one collection of aesthetics, traditions, rituals, and ceremonies. Fantastic, but… is there meaning behind it? 

What is meaning?

And does it even matter?

This time, the rules of the Rose Ceremony have already been broken. So perhaps, no, meaning doesn’t matter.

Despite protests--explicit or passive-aggressive--from some of the other princes and princesses, those who already resolved to do what they wanted went ahead and did what they wanted.

Normally, the matchings between the princes and princesses would be impeccable. But this time, some of the princesses were missing from their prince. Some princesses went with another prince. Some didn’t even have any… or simply paired with each other!

Everyone was nervous, needless to say… but for the rebel princes and princesses, since the king and queen were not present, the fire in them grew as if someone had fanned.

And as the doors opened, and the musicians entered, and a priest clambered to the pedestal to begin the ceremony, Utena and Miki grasped each other’s hands, the fire in their hearts growing even stronger. It was a youthful, determined fire that spread throughout their bodies as the lines slowly moved up to the priest, performed curtsies and bows before circling around the long table in the middle of the room and to the back of the lines.

Finally, they were at the front. Utena glanced at Miki, who was red as a tomato, but still managing to maintain a kind of princely posture. (Perhaps it was the vibrant purple rose she had found earlier and stuck it on his lapel--purple is a royal color or something, right?) 

Then she bowed, as opposed to curtsying. Miki gasped. So did the priest. But then Miki quickly shook his head, laughed, and then kissed Utena on the forehead. 

Happy, they were happy, so why not have fun? They clutched their hands together, a powerful flame together, and skipped as opposed to walk stately around the table. All of the princes and princesses stared, their hearts dropping into their stomach, but at the same time curious…

Right… the king and the queen were not present…

Who’s to say that we have to follow these rules?

By the fifth round of curtsies and bows and kisses and hugs and prancing and galloping, the music had changed to something rhythmatic and quick-paced, the priest was laughing, and everyone was jolly and all was well.

 

But was that really a good idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much how it happened in my dream.


	17. À l'enfer

\--pain, sharp, piercing pain because of a long, long way down or a long way up, depending on where you stood in the endless steps of the white spiraling staircase--

Then, Utena awoke in a field of white, dew-kissed flowers that penetrated her gossamer pale yellow dress. As she pushed herself up from her bleeding knees, her fingers clenched the flowers, and therein was pricked by thorns. More blood, even fresher than the dirt beneath her hands, sprayed onto the petals, but before she could cry, her breath was taken away by the sight before her.

She was in field of roses, red like setting suns, pink like sweets, purple like noble, orange like tear-stained lockets, blue like ocean, yellow like rising suns, green like Himemiya’s eyes--

“Maa, what a pretty flower…” Two warm hands covered her eyes.“I’m almost sad to want to take you with me but… a flower is meant to be looked at, is it not?”  
Utena broke away from the hands. “I’m not a flower!” she angrily spouted, standing with her legs apart from each other and her back straight, as if she was protecting someone behind her. “I’m--”

The voice belonged to a woman in a large red dress with a delicate small face, an elegant nose, and wide sparkling eyes of ever-deep evergreen. Green stars, they seemed like--distant, heavenly, and cosmic. 

“You are…?” Himemiya asked softly, but not as soft as her smile and her long lowered eyelashes and the freed purple waves that fell all the way to her knees. 

“I’m…” Utena tried to continue, but Himemiya simply held out her hand. Utena gawked at it as if she had never seen a hand before.

“No!” Utena suddenly cried out. “I’m not… I’m not ready yet! I can’t...”

Himemiya’s hand was still there. Taunting her, perhaps?! But… her smile… and her eyes… so gentle and patient… could she really be taunting…? Is that even possible?

\--pain, sharp, piercing pain like a million swords or because of a long, long way down or a long way up, depending on where you stood in the endless steps of the white spiraling staircase--

Utena dropped onto the dirt helplessly, squirming and wailing at the pain, and how alone she was and how she didn’t know where to go for help and why oh why wasn’t there anyone around, what was she supposed to do?!

“A witch… I knew it…”

Utena, still in pain, but driven by an insatiable urge to know at all times who was speaking, forced her chin up. The tall man--there he was.

“You’re… Lucifer, aren’t you?”

“Lucifer?” the man asked.

“Once, in a chapel, I wanted to die. I remember… I heard… a name… Lucifer. A name of a demon.”

“No, you were in a dark room, a planetarium. A projector. And Lucifer… they were a fallen angel.”

“You’re Lucifer… I know it!”

“No, I am no angel. I am the Prince… I am Dios…” 

At “Dios,” Utena gulped for air. One tear slid out of her right eye. Then she gritted her teeth and stood.

The soil beneath her feet was wet with her blood. Blood that poured out of her right ankle--the same side where she had broken her leg in some dream or reality--was the Prince’s blade. Only one blade… but it felt like a million swords.

Behind the Prince stood Himemiya, her hand still outstretched. Himemiya… the girl/woman she didn’t know but knew at the same time… the Rose Bride.. The one who belongs to the prince…

As if bells were ringing in her head, her head throbbed. 

But it didn’t matter. At the same time, something was growing inside her--a fire? A flower?--and it propelled her to stay still, glaring ahead, at the Prince.

“I… challenge you to a duel,” she wheezed. Then she knelt and in one quick motion pulled out the Prince’s blade. 

From behind the Prince, Himemiya’s hand slipped one white rose into his lapel. She moved to Utena; for her, a blood-dyed rose.

The bells rang one more time in her head, then vanished. She readied her blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRUD IT'S COMING TOGETHER
> 
> we're almost at the finale folks


	18. et donc la sorcière se tenait dans le bassin de sang

The door was open, but it was as if it was closed, for a bearded man much too tall and large for the door was blocking it any source of light (if there was any) from outside the room. He was wearing white--the Prince’s outfit, complete with the cape and the sword--but so were his eyes. Perhaps this giant was actually a ghost--no human could not have any colors in their eyes.

“What is this?” he bellowed, each syllable in the words deliberate and over-enunciated.

He took a step forward. As expected, his footstep was heavy. The room seemed to almost give away to his foot.

“What is this?” he asked again, much more muted, but the menace in his tone more pronounced.

No one answered him. Their fires had been put out. 

Then, the pink-haired Bride stepped forward. “The Rose Ceremony, Your Highness.”

“THIS IS NO CEREMONY,” he roared, revealing his canines. “THE CEREMONY HAS RULES.”

Still, no one moved. 

Utena continued. Miki was behind her, so he couldn’t tell if she was trembling or she was putting on the stupidest brave act she would ever live to put on. 

“Your Highness, it might be time for the rules to change.”

No, she definitely was putting on the stupidest brave act she would ever live to put on and he did not want her life to end now. Miki seized her hand and pulled her back into the line all princesses were supposed to be in.

Everyone followed suit, like ducklings waddling behind a grown up duck.

The Ceremony resumed. This time, the priest was shoved aside, and the overbearing giant--the king--in his place.

“Kneel,” he grunted to the pair before him. Then to the next pair. And to the next.

When it was Utena and Miki’s turn, Utena refused to kneel, no matter how hard Miki tugged at her arm.

“Your Highness, can I ask you something?”

The giant said nothing but “kneel.”

“Your Highness, what is the point of this Ceremony?”

“Kneel.”

“Your Highness--”

“KNEEL.”

Miki shoved Utena’s knees to ground. Then he brutally pushed her around the table, bruising her legs and shoulder. 

“Stop it!” she ordered Miki, throwing his hand off her back. 

“No, Utena, you stop it! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“Oh yeah?” She lunged at Miki’s waist, aiming for the sword hanging at his hip, but he dodged just in time. Instead, she had torn off the purple rose on his lapel.

Fresh blood sprayed onto the petals.  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
“Witch…” “Witch…!”  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry and not sorry for the "witch" spam at the end.
> 
> The comic that will result of this fic IS going to be experimental...


	19. Et tue le prince

“Utena... you are selfish. But I am the Prince. So you won’t be able to beat me,” the Prince stated dryly. He bent his knees and readied his blade.

He flew through the air, like a bullet, aiming for Utena’s rose. Utena gasped and thrust her sword downward, narrowly preventing his blade from piercing her heart. She tumbled forward as if she was a marionette, then collided into the floor. 

She heard the Prince’s blade’s slicing the air as he charged at her again. She gritted her teeth, spun around, and charged too. Their unequal impact brought Utena too low to the ground. The Prince violently shoved her shoulder. Into the floor she went.

“You want to know why you can’t beat me? Because you’re still a child. A child trying to be something that she isn’t--”

“SHUT UP!” Utena yelled, returning a version of the Prince’s lunge, her blade nicking his cheekbone. “

But the Prince brutally locked his blade against hers.

“Did you know children hurt everyone around them?” he whispered.

Behind him, Himemiya hovered left and right, like a rose petal. 

“You need to grow up a little, Tenjou Utena...”

Utena pressed even harder against his blade. “What... do… you know about growing up?!” She rammed her forehead into his, sending him rolling and rolling and rolling until his back slammed into a set of metal gates--gates to an elevator that would take anyone to the top of the white staircase.

The Prince sat up after coughing twice. “Oh… I know so much more than you ever will… I’ve watched this kingdom prosper, watched the first sonless king’s lineage grow into so many, many, many branches…” He slowly pushed himself off the ground and back onto his knees. As he did, his short lavender hair began to grow out until weaves of light purple curled and hooked around his epaulettes. The Prince, already tall and bright, seemed to grow even taller, perhaps even aging as well. “You know how a lineage branches out, Tenjou Utena?” He chuckled. “I reckon not… a child understands nothing… a child only jumps, grasps at stars, and then fall!”

Another lunge--the air rippling as it filled the vacuum tunnel left behind the thrust of his blade--and into the air Utena’s blade went. It smashed into pieces when it met with the floor. Before Utena could escape, his hands wrapped around her neck, pressing into the space where her collarbones met. She clawed his hands, but her nails were broken and her strength was leaving her like the air in her lungs.

“Say, Tenjou Utena. Would you like to know before you fade away into another dream what it means to be among the stars? What eternity, miracles, shining things, and power all have in common? They’re lofty and high and unattainable. But if you can create an image of them… why, who needs the real things anyway?”

Utena began to flail, her sight blurring. 

“In a sense, the lie becomes reality. Do you understand Tenjou Utena?” He laughed. “Probably not… a child trapped in an eternal dream remains eternally a child!”

A rose petal floats by… which then blurs into a hand… a dark, safe hand… a changing hand but a hand nevertheless…

...Himemiya’s hand…!

She threw her hand at the petal-hand-darkness-ever-changing--and Himemiya’s solid, strong fingers grasped it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many references have I made? How many metaphors have I made? Does this resemble the movie? Does this resemble the anime? Did I do a role-swap? Is Anthy a prince? Did I reuse Juri's duel?
> 
> IS IT ALL CHU-CHU'S FAULT??? (Yes.)


	20. Accorde-moi le pouvoir de la révolution

“Neh, Himemiya?”

“What is it, Utena-sama?”

“Someday, together…”

“Someday, together…?”


	21. la fin du monde

A light--a familiar light--blue and encompassing everything in sight burst from the instant Himemiya and Utena’s fingers touched, and knocked the Prince away. From the light, a beautiful blade inset with a dark pink stone emerged.

Utena placed one hand the handle. Himemiya placed hers on Utena’s hand. Wordlessly, but in orchestrated sync they pulled the blade. From the tip of the blade, a sparkle of light trickled down to the handle.

The light dissipated. Still holding onto her hand was Himemiya… no, Anthy--Anthy in an almost obnoxiously pink suit. Hardly a color Utena expected the Himemiya in her memories to don… but… “It suits you,” Utena said, both eyes tearing at Anthy’s sight. “Too much for a girl.”

Anthy held tighter onto Utena’s hand, grinning. “I learned from the best.”

A growl drew both women back to the Prince before them. Yet, even if they were scared...

“All right, Himemiya, are you ready?”

“When you are.”

As one, they pointed the blade at the Prince. Then, yelling at the top of their lungs, they jumped and plunged the blade at the Prince’s rose.


	22. promis

A long way down. Or a long way up, depending on where you stood in the endless steps of the white spiraling staircase. Worse of all, while climbing this staircase, there would be nothing to look at. 

Well, besides from each other, as Utena and Anthy did, countless times, as they climbed the stairs together. Most of the way there, they spoke no words. They just enjoyed the sound of their footsteps, sometimes in sync, sometimes irregularly happening one after the other. And their hands--which were just intertwined but neither could bear to let go.

After a very long time, they arrived at the top, where the eternally locked white doors awaited them. Right in front of the left door were the rows and rows of pictures. Pictures of princes and princesses that went like:

The Princess - The Prince

On and on and on. Every single pair. A Princess on the left, and a Prince on the right.

Except for the last and final picture. There, two women in red and black armor carrying jousting lances riding horses, faced each other. Left and right. Right and left. A Princess and a Prince. Or the other way around. Or neither. Or both.

Did it matter?

 

“Himemiya…”

“What is it, Utena?”

“How… how did you get in here? And why…?”

“I wanted to find you, that’s all. And I did.”

“That’s it?”

Anthy giggled. With her free hand, she put her index finger to her lips. “A witch doesn’t cast and tell.”

Then at last, Anthy loosened her fingers. Utena held on. 

“Wait! Himemiya…! I… I still don’t remember everything… I just have bits and pieces. Don’t leave me just yet… I’m not ready… stay with me. Just until I remember and…!”

She let go, despite Utena’s protests. “Utena. Do you remember what you told me?” 

“Huh?”

“The outside world…” She placed her hand on the handle of the white door. “It is scary and often ugly. I’m still not used to it. But don’t be afraid of it. Because it’s world where we can meet. A forever-changing world, full of pain, growth, hate…” 

“Himemiya…?”

Anthy tugged on the handle. The door--so set in stone and immobile like the walls--moved, and so effortlessly for her. She put one foot through the door into a darkness or perhaps a black soil.

“No wait, Himemiya! Why are you going? No… no, don’t leave me! Please!” Utena caught her hand.

Anthy squeezed her fingers. “I’m not leaving you Utena… I’ll be outside the doors.”

She tried to pull Anthy towards her, to keep her away from that darkness. “You promise?” she begged.

She laughed, and kissed the tips of Utena’s fingers. Utena felt Anthy’s tears trickling down into her palm. “Silly Utena… we already made a promise already.” Then she slipped her legs, then her torso, and then her left shoulder into the darkness. “Come soon, Utena.”

“Okay…” Utena wailed, clenching her firsts. “I’ll come for you, I’ll come for you soon!”

The trail of tears from her deep green eyes glistened once, and then faded into the darkness. The doors immediately shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not crying you're crying if there is any crying


	23. Tout le monde brille ensemble.

(In a not-too-busy ramen restaurant…)

“Aaaah, I’m so bored,” Nanami whined, plummeting into the bar stool. She instantly regretted her decision as she felt a bruise forming on her bum.

“You can help with the noodles, you know,” Miki scolded, playfully slapping Nanami’s head. 

“I don’t cook, I manage!” Nanami scoffed, returning the playful slap. 

“Okay manager, do some managing,” Saionji growled, emerging from the kitchen. “Did you do last week’s budget?”

“You idiot, do you even understand the meaning of managing? That’s finance, AKA nii-sama’s job.”

Smoke also began to emerge from the kitchen. Everyone (except Nanami) hurried to check the source--but Juri beat them to it. She set the burning pot of chicken broth next to Nanami. A few stray droplets shocked Nanami awake.

“You know what’s also your brother’s job? Making sure he didn’t burn a third pot in a row. Which he did.” She glared at Nanami. “Where is he?”

“Probably out courting some girls,” Saionji guessed.

“Probably trying out another get-rich-quick-scheme,” Miki offered.

Juri sighed. “Everyone is incompetent except Miki.” She kicked Nanami’s bar stool. “You, it’s your turn to wash the dishes.”

As Nanami grumbled her way into the kitchen, the door to the restaurant opened. Juri sighed, already predicting the chain of events… 

“ANTHY” Saionji screamed, only to get pushed off the chair by Miki jumping over the bar.

“H-Himemiya-san! And Tenjou-senpai! Out for lunch? Or something? Or just to hang out with us?”

Anthy giggled. “We were craving ramen.”

“Of course! I mean, this IS a ramen restaurant… aaaah, sit wherever you like, it’s not like we have any customers right now! I’ll go get you the menu--oh wait, you don’t need it, you come here all the time, but--”

“Miki… just grab them a menu,” Juri called out amusedly.

“R-Right!” Miki cried, racing to the back of the bar.

Meanwhile, Utena and Anthy took a seat in the corner of the restaurant. As they sat on opposite sides, Juri came by with two glasses of water. She folded her arms and looked at Utena slyly.

“So…” Juri began. “When should I break it to Miki?”

Utena flushed, waving her hands. “S-Shhh Senpai! That’s not funny!”

Anthy casually sipped from the straw. “It’s all right, Utena. We're all big girls and boys now, mostly. He’ll be all right.”

Juri smirked and slapped Utena’s back, nearly causing Utena to spit out her water. “Miki’s taking a while. He might have passed out in the back from the blood rushing to his face. I’ll get you your menu.”

As Juri headed behind the bar, Anthy held her chin up with her hands and gawked at Utena. Utena returned the gaze, mimicking her gesture.

“Tenjou…” Saionji stated, suddenly appearing at their table. “I challenge you to a duel!”

Utena huffed. “Go away, Saionji.”

“What, are you too cowardly to face me? Are you peeing your pants at my awesomeness?”

“Where in the world did you get that idea? I’ve beaten you every time. Besides, I’m so beyond children’s card games…”

“YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF DUEL I WANT, TENJOU--OW!” Saionji spun around. Juri returned with the menu.

“Oh, everyone’s so lively,” Anthy murmured.

Utena grinned. “It’s fine. As long as we get to shine together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saionji gets some love.


End file.
